MY MOTHER IN THE SKY
You won’t learn much from me
about my mother in the sky
except that she’s up there for certain,
a star in a singing constellation.
She with a solitary tune
in life (one that she couldn’t turn,
a half-sung lullaby)
is now an aria-ist, a diva.
A change has come over her
utterly. At night I can hear her
from the garden, no longer shy
and tentative, no note too high
for her to hold till the cracking glass
of the universe comes to pass.
And in the singing of that star,
I get a sense of how things are.
© Ciaran O’Driscoll 2010
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